The dim light of early day finds me standing in my bedroom, performing what has become an unfortunate morning ritual of mine.
I turn left, then right, and then twist around completely and glance over my shoulder. I feel myself frown as I let out an audible sigh.
I turn my body around one last time, determined to not give up just yet. I try straightening my back to make myself a little taller. I tuck my shirt into the front of my pants, and then, seconds later, I untuck it. I put my hands on my waist and angle myself sideways. I shift my weight from one hip and to the other. Finally, as a last resort, I squint, hoping that if I blur my vision, I’ll feel a little bit better about myself.
But I don’t.
Because staring back at me, in the mirror that hangs over my closet door, is a reflection I simply can’t stand: I see a girl who, just like me, looks completely defeated.
It appears neither of us like what we see. Continue reading “Week 49: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall | Everyday Nostalgia”